


Blue Water Lotus

by devilinthedetails



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Carthak, Children, F/M, Family, Flowers, Gen, Love, Memories, Rain, Romance, crocodile - Freeform, garden, happiness, interracial couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 10:37:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13785708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/pseuds/devilinthedetails
Summary: Kalasin, Kaddar, and Binur walk through a garden blossoming with memories of love and laughter.





	Blue Water Lotus

Blue Water Lotus 

Before she came to Carthak, Kalasin had never loved rain. In Tortall, rain was to be avoided, complained about when it came, and cursed when it swelled to a flood. In Carthak, rain was divine. It was prayed for and it’s arrival during the wet season was a cause for rejoicing, because rain made the rivers that were the life blood of Carthak. Without the rivers, there were be no crops and no trade, Carthak reduced to a barren desert with howling hyena wind sweeping sand across an empty landscape. Even the flooding of the River Zekoi meant celebrations in the city streets for the fresh, fertile silt the river left behind for good planting. Any crops, animals, and people swallowed in the surge were barely missed and mourned. 

The air was damp with the rain falling from the sky onto the puddled paths as Kalasin walked with her husband and five-year-old son through Kaddar’s favorite garden. Her cloak stuck like mosquitoes to her back in the humidity, but she smiled as she watched Binur, squealing with delight, squelch through the mud, dirty up to his thighs, and hop from one pool of water to the next. He had been mimicking a monkey swinging between her arm and Kaddar, his hands clinging tightly to theirs, as they lifted him off the wet ground with each step, but he had been begged to be put down so he could jump into the puddles. Since he was wearing old boots, they let him make a mess of himself. 

The leaves of the acacia grove that canopied above their heads echoed with the sounds of Binur’s laughter, and Kalasin thought she could hear the garden ringing with all the happy memories it contained for her. It was here, she believed, that she had begun to fall in love with her husband. Here was where he had entered her heart by revealing his to hers in all its tenderness and nobility. 

Here he had shown her plants—blue water locus in tile pools and purple iris most impressive at sunset—that were native to Carthak and utterly foreign to her. Here he had reclined in the shade of the acacia leaves, sometimes telling her about his past, sometimes listening to her stories of the home she had lost and the one she hoped to create, and sometimes not saying anything at all as he twined his fingers through hers. Here he had taught her which loam would encourage which plants to grow, because, he had explained patiently with only a hint of smugness, not all plants needed the same soil, being like people in that way. Here was the place where he made the most of the little magic he had, restoring green to plants that started to turn brown as dust and urging flowers to bloom brighter and broader. He wasn’t as Gifted as her, but, watching him in his garden, she could almost believe that he was. 

“I can see white worms!” Binur, prodding at a puddle with a fallen acacia branch, called back to them. “I’ve never seen white worms before.” 

“White worms are dead ones,” Kaddar answered before Kalasin could. 

“How did they die, Father?” Curious rather than revolted, Binur poked even more enthusiastically at the white worms in the water. 

“Too much water.” Kaddar steered Binur away from the puddle with an arm around his shoulder as he and Kalasin reached their inquisitive son. 

“I thought worms were mostly made of water.” Binur frowned as he cocked his head in a question mark. 

“They are.” Kaddar ruffled Binur’s hair, which was midnight black of Kalasin’s and the rich texture of Kaddar’s. “That doesn’t mean they can’t drown. Worms are like people, son. Not enough water, and they die, but too much water, and they drown. What happened to the worms is what would happen to you if you fell into the River Zekoi except you’d go blue instead of white.” 

“You aren’t going to fall into the River Zekoi.” Kalasin directed her soothing words to Binur and her glare to Kaddar for lodging notions of drowning in her son’s skull, but both her husband and her child ignored her. 

“My nursemaids say I would get eaten by crocodiles if I fall into the River Zekoi.” Binur clapped his hands together in an imitation of a crocodile’s closing jaw. From the grin on his face, the prospect tickled him more than it terrified him. “Which is it, Father?” 

“Both. If you fall into the River Zekoi, you’ll be eaten by crocodiles if you’re lucky.” Kaddar snapped his palms, mirroring Binur’s. “It’ll be a quick death. If you aren’t so fortunate, you’ll drown, and it’ll be a slow death, as your lungs flood with water, and you turn blue as a water lotus.” 

“You’ll scare him.” Kalasin elbowed her husband in the ribs, but Binur, undaunted, had charged onto the next puddle, leaping into it with a splash and a scream.


End file.
